


Meltdown

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [38]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Meltdown, and BREAKING the cycle of abuse, discussion of the cycle of abuse, leaving ur kid alone when theyre upset because you cant handle it mentally rn, parenting is hard, you are not your parents basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 07:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: “It’s not enough to love the children; it is necessary that they are aware that they are loved.”—John Bosco





	Meltdown

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt from [ @arcaneklauskogane ](https://arcaneklauskogane.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr:
> 
> "i loved the laoft oneshot you did regarding virgil’s sensory overload and it was kiiinda implied that logan experiences it (or something similar) as well...? if you wrote smth abt that i would explode"
> 
> This is probably not what you were getting at but LArry kinda hijacked the plot - i really hope like it anyway

“No, no, _no, no, NO!”_

“Buddy, I’m _sorry_ ,” said Larry, desperate, “But I don’t know what’s _wrong, please_ buddy, can you point to what’s wrong?”

Logan covered his head with his arms and _screeched_.

The clock hanging on the wall cracked, and Larry flinched at the stabbing pain in his ears. Thomas, who Larry was cradling against his chest and who had already been crying sympathetically with his brother, started outright screaming.

It made no sense – Thomas was prone to temper tantrums, but Logan was silent and withdrawn the _vast_ majority of the time, and when he _did_ speak he sounded nearly like a very small adult, even at barely two.

So this, monosyllables and inarticulate screaming, was completely foreign. And it _hurt – i_ t made Larry’s chest ache, because Logan was so upset he was hiccuping and gasping like he couldn’t breathe but Larry had absolutely _no idea_ what to do about it.

And he could _feel_ himself getting frustrated, angry, feel the urge to scream at Logan to just _shut up_ and stop throwing a fit for no reason, and he _hated_ it. The guilt was clustering in his throat, and he felt his eyes start to sting.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

Larry was no good to Logan like this. He had to take a step back.

“Okay,” he repeated.

He stood up and set Thomas in his crib, and turned and reached for Logan.

“No, no, NO!”

“I’m sorry, buddy,” said Larry, “It’s okay. I’m so sorry,”

He placed his squirming, sobbing youngest in his own crib, and turned around and walked out of the room.

Larry went to the kitchen, far enough that he could still hear them but enough that the sound was muffled, so that every sob didn’t feel quite so much like he was getting stabbed in the heart. He sat heavy at the table, placing his head in his hands.

_He’s a baby,_ he told himself vehemently, _He’s allowed to cry. He’s allowed to feel things._

Larry shouldn’t have to even think it. He shouldn’t have to _remind himself_.

He should probably make tea, or just get a glass of water, or _something,_ because his hands were shaking, but he was a bit concerned his knees would give out on him if he tried to stand.

It had been years, and the words _Don’t be a sissy_ were still splashed across the inside of his head, like a wine stain that wouldn’t come out.

And when Larry had held Thomas, soft and so small and fragile the first time, and then Logan who’d blinked up at Larry with bright silver eyes that neither Dot nor Larry could bear to send back to someone like _that –_ he’d promised. _It stops with me_ , he’d said.

It would. It _had._ Larry wasn’t his grandfather and he never would be.

Larry let out a long breath in the silence, setting his head on his folded hands.

… Silence.

Larry lurched up from the kitchen table as quietly as he could manage, speed-walking back to the nursery and freezing in the still open door.

Thomas was gone.

Panic slammed into Larry like a freight train, and he opened his mouth to shout, but was cut off by the sound of quiet, hiccuping gasps.

He turned to Logan’s crib, and relaxed.

Well then.

Thomas had apparently figured out how to climb out of (and into) the cribs – which was, somehow, not the strangest part.

Logan was laying on his back, and the hiccups were his. He wasn’t sobbing any more, just occasional gasps that made his chest jump. He had his hands clamped over his eyes.

Thomas was laying on him.

Thomas had also turned his head when Larry had come in, and was now looking up at him with his nose scrunched – his eyes were still rimmed red from his own tears, but he wasn’t crying anymore.

“B’rry needs squished,” he said simply, like this was a perfectly typical statement. Logan flinched when Thomas spoke and let out a whine, turning his head like he was trying to hide.

Covering his eyes, flinching at noise – Larry suddenly had an idea, and he hoped desperately he was right.

He turned and flicked the light switch, before crossing the room and pulling the curtains almost all the way, so that a sliver of light was all that came through.

“Buddy,” he said, a softly as he could. Logan flinched, but not quite so badly.

“I turned the lights off,” said Larry.

Slowly, Logan removed his hands from his eyes, but he kept them closed. He relaxed slightly, and quickly moved his hands to cover his ears firmly.

Larry made his way around the room, taking the batteries out of the clock on the wall and unplugging the radio and removing any possible source of noise, no matter how faint.

He sat on the floor by the crib, and waited.

After long enough that the guilt and anxiety were threatening to choke Larry all over again, Logan’s hiccups began to subside, and he slowly removed his hands from his ears.

He set one on top of Thomas’s head, and wiggled the other between the rungs of the crib.

Larry took it gingerly, and Logan sniffled.

“Do you feel better?” Larry said quietly.

Logan nodded, wiping his face and then putting his hand back on Thomas’s head and, alright, _ew_ , Thomas was definitely going to need his hair washed.

“M’sorry, Daddy,” said Logan.

“No, buddy, you didn’t do anything wrong,” said Larry, “You were hurt, and you needed help. I’m sorry I left you,”

“S’okay,”

“Y’sill need squished?” said Thomas. Logan nodded immediately, and Thomas laid his head back down on Logan’s shoulder.

It was a while before Logan could bring himself to sit up and let Thomas go – with a soft and much more calm “Thank you, Bug,” that made Larry’s eyes burn – and even longer before he could bring himself to haltingly explain the way every sound and sight in the room had suddenly seemed hostile.

“You must have been afraid,” said Larry, “I’m sorry you went through that. You’re very brave to talk about it, and help me understand,”

Logan shook his head.

“I cried,” he said, “It was silly. The hurt wasn’t real, it was i-mag-i-nary,”

“Any hurt you feel is real, even if I can’t see it, or Momma or Tommybug. If you feel it, it _is_ real,”

Logan seemed to regard this statement with a sort of wary suspicion, but he didn’t actually argue.

And the next time it happened, Logan came to Larry, tense as an over-tightened guitar strung ready to snap, and asked in a shaking voice for his headphones. Larry put them on Logan himself, and Logan tugged Larry’s arms around him in a hug that most children would almost certainly find too restrictive.

Larry gave him a firm squeeze – Logan could cry, and he could ask to be held, and he could feel whatever he felt and Larry would be there, and Larry would help him any way he could. As long Logan needed.

_I got you buddy._

_I’ve got you._

**Author's Note:**

> i am also [ tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) over on tumblr!


End file.
